


Rich Man ; Poor Man

by ColeTReed



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen, family au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2477363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColeTReed/pseuds/ColeTReed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joel is a selfish and rich retired Soap actor who only thinks of himself and has zero patience with the rest of the world.  Ray is the son of two amazing philanthropists who have recently passed away in a fire.  How will the self-absorbed Uncle Joel handle being a father for the first time, and how will Ray handle living with the exact opposite of his loving home?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Rich Life & A Poor Life

The third house at the end of the Maris street was an example of perfect architecture and flawless gardening. Solid white siding, blood brick foundation, impeccably tamed rose bushes, and a cobblestone path led to the front wooden porch of 3806 Maris Street. A lazy orange cat snoozed on the railing of the porch, which was surprisingly clean for an outdoor pet.

A gardener from the state-wide famous "Rosette Ala Inc" tended to the garden, wearing an impeccable jumpsuit that could have passed for a Milan spring fashion garment. Expensive gardening tools and liquids were creating a gorgeous dewy like gaze on the petals of red, orange and stunning pink roses.

Inside stood an even more cleanly environment. Cream colored walls were adorned with original artwork from the famous artist Banksy, and furniture was aptly arranged in a manner so that they could achieve geometric harmony. A large entertainment center, complete with surround sound and a new curved television set was polished to a gleam.

Though standing out against the perfection of the home, was a frazzled mess of a 40 year old man. Salt and pepper hair was messy from bed-head, and a skinny torso was engulfed by an ancient college hoodie that had faded into mess of gray.

Just beside the man on a black leather couch, a golden-colored Yorkie was groaning as he paced back and forth, covering his ears as the man continued to whine and make annoying noises.

"I just... No! There is no fucking way in hell that is ever going to work out, Mr. Banks! I'm 40, I'm single, and I HATE people! I've spent my entire life trying to AVOID making human interaction! How the fuck am I going to handle a 16 year old boy!? I'm Joel Heyman, do they not realize that?!" the man exploded, speaking to the dog on the couch.

Mr. Banks whined loudly, burying himself under the nearby quilted blanket.

Joel quickly yanked him back out, and held him tightly in his arms. "I feel sorry for the kid Mr. Banks, I really do! It's just... _Gah!_ I don't know what to do with a kid! Everything in this damn house is breakable, and I'm sure the kid is NOT going to want to eat half the shit I eat, which means I'm going to have to spend MORE time at the grocery store and buying... Buying..." he said, shivering at the very thought. " _Bagel Bites,"_ he finished in horror.

The dog rolled his eyes and tried fervently to return to his refuge of the leather couch. His attempts were in vain.

Shaking his head, Joel walked through his one story house's hallway and into his bedroom. He flopped down with Mr. Banks on his gigantic double-king sized bed, and laid his head down on the neatly arranged gold and black trimmed pillows.

"Don't get me wrong. I love and mourn the loss of sis and my brother-in-law, which is why I'm taking her kid in. Not to mention I respect that my brother Marc didn't want to make him travel all the damn time with the army, but... How on earth did I manage to get him? I know foster homes are awful, but surely that would be better than being with me! I'm a heartless ego-maniac with zero patience!" Joel proclaimed, petting Mr. Banks on the head gently.

Mr. Banks seemed to nod his head with Joel's line of thinking, not one to even remotely disagree.

Dramatically, Joel threw a pillow over his head and sighed helplessly into it. "Oh Mr. Banks... This is just not fair for me! I'm going to have to take care of this kid until he's 18 and THEN I can legally kick him out. How am I going to possibly last this long?" he asked desperately.

In a series of dog-like facial motions and whines, Mr. Banks seemed to reply something along the lines of " _Well I've put up with you for 5 years, so kindly shut the fuck up before I piss over your Picasso in the living room"._

As Joel continued to monologue to himself, Mr. Banks smacked the remote control on the bedside table, which turned on the plasma flat-screen to the state news network. A tanned woman of some Hispanic descent was on the screen with lovely brown hair.

" _...and I'm sure that we will all applaud Zippy for his harrowing adventures in stopping that drug ring! Now, in other news, we have an update on the Narvaez compound fire that happened last week,"_ she explained.

Joel lifted his head up. The screen now showed the ashen remains of his sister and brother-in-law's compound, as well as the rest of their neighbors apartment complexes. They had lived on the poorer side of town, with the rest of the immigrants that had moved north from Mexico. There was a lot of "drama" with the new establishment of the "Eastern Compound Housing Project", which took a great deal of commercial land away from potential investors. Though it had done wonders for the homeless and lower-income population of Austin, there would always be a selfish and greedy element to the world of humans.

Turning up the volume, Joel hoped to hear that the arsonist had been captured.

_"Julian and Julia Narvaez, owners of the Narvaez Apartment Compound, were found dead after an intense blaze overtook their personal home AND line of low-income apartment complexes. Having donated several hundred thousand dollars into the project, the high-income contractor Julian Narvaez had moved his family close to the complex in order to help facilitate their many tenants while working out of his new home. After refusing to back down from the pressures of the investment community, Julian received several dozen death threats on a daily basis. To which he merely replied ; " My duty is not to those in authority or in power. I follow what my father, and what my father's father taught me growing up. Which was that no matter if you're rich, poor, or just a lazy glob, it's your DUTY to help those in need or those in times of trouble. I believe in what my family stood for, and I won't let some snobby rich folk tell me otherwise!"_

Joel managed to smile, hearing his brother-in-law's voice again. Julia had married one hell of a man, and he was proud of their charitable acts. Even though Julian could have made millions with his contracting skills and degree in architecture, he instead worked with the middle-class and lower-class, making sure they could build and start their businesses and homes at a reasonable rate, and still get an amazing place to live and work. Hell, even Julia was about the same. She'd gotten a doctorate AND residence in medicine at 21, but instead of working for an impressive firm like her brilliant mind could have allowed, she followed Julian's lead and worked in half a dozen free clinics and performing low-cost surgeries for the uninsured.

Between the two of them, they could have been billionaires, if not more. Instead, they'd taken another path that led to the happiness of others and a middle-class lifestyle.

Joel never said they were the SMARTEST people, but everyone had their faults.

“ _During the evening hours of Saturday, October 14th of this year, the Narvaez compound was burned from the inside out. According to the local fire marshal, an accelarant and an explosive were utilized to spread the fire at the excessive rate. After an in-depth investigation, police have come to the conclusion that this act was carried out by the local economic developer “Caye”. The company has been raided and FBI specialists from the Behavioral Analysis Unit are stationed to find the culprit within the company. It is their hope that-”_

Before Joel could hear the tail end of the news report, the front doorbell rang loudly with colorful chimes.

“AHHH! They’re here already!” Joel shrieked. He jolted out of the bed and ran into his full walk-in closet to find something better to wear.

+++++

Standing on the front porch of Mr. Heyman’s house, two teenage boys and an older woman in her 70’s were standing quietly.

The first teenage boy, Ray, had a slightly tanned tone to his skinny build. He wore a pair of thin-framed glasses, and was in a black suit with blue trim. His black hair was neatly kept, combed off to the side. A school logo was emblazoned on the right side of his chest. In his hands was a small duffel bag, and across his back was a well-worn out backpack with a Halo logo stitched on the back.

Ray took in a deep breath. “So uh... Michael, Mrs. Jones, thanks for letting me stay with you guys the last couple of weeks... Hell of a lot better than being in a foster place,” he muttered.

Michael, the teenage kid next to Ray in a tank and shorts, threw his broad arm around Ray and hugged him tightly. His bright red curls bobbed in the light, and his muscles nearly strangled Ray to death in the process. “Not a problem bud. Oh, and if this asshole Uncle of yours is a prick, come on back anytime you want!” he exclaimed.

Behind them, Mrs. Jones nodded. Her wrinkles jiggled as her face moved. “Oh yes. You’ve been a pleasure to have in my home! Don’t ever feel like a stranger,” she said, patting Ray on the back of the shoulder as Michael released his friend from his hug.

A stampeding sound of six feet ran through the hallway.

“I’ll be there in a second! Just... Just a second!” a man’s voice yelled from inside.

The door swung open, revealing Ray’s Uncle Heyman. He was wearing a rather expensive looking shirt and tie.

“Ah.. ah... Ah...” Joel said, trying to catch his breath. “Y... You... You must be Ray!” he said, holding his hand out to Ray.

Ray took his hand and shook it. “Yeah. Good to see you Uncle Heyman!” he replied, smiling softly.

Joel’s eyes turned to Michael and his faced turned pale. “Oh God... There were TWO kids I have to take in?!” he exclaimed, nearly fainting on the spot.

Michael’s face turned into an angry sneer. “Fuck no. I’m Ray’s best friend Michael, and I’m not staying with you Mr. TV Soap Star wannabe bitch-ass piece of fucking shit!” he said mockingly.

Covering Michael’s mother, Mrs. Jones giggled gently while Ray pushed Michael away.

“Uh, sorry about him!” Ray chuckled nervously.

Joel folded his arms. “That is NOT how you should be treating a ten-time Emmy award winning TV show actor!” he exclaimed, striking an intimate pose and flipping his hair playfully.

Michael mumbled a rather long string of incomprehensible profanity that was unheard of

“MICHAEL!” Mrs. Jones announce loudly, blushing wildly.

+++++

After a set of awkward introductions, and after the Joneses had left the premises, Ray and Joel had sat down in the living area, where an overbearing amount of silence left both men uncomfortable.

Coughing, Joel tried to break the silence. “So, uh... You’re wearing your school uniform? What’s up with that?” he asked.

Ray shifted nervously in his seat. “It was all I had left after the fire, and the rest of my clothes were burned. I was studying at school when the fire happened, so... Well, it’s all the clothes I have to wear now,” he answered.

“Oh,” Joel responded quietly. Turning to Ray, he fidgeted in his seat. “So I supposed I need to buy you some clothes or something...?” he asked.

Chuckling, Ray shook his head. “Nah, that’s okay. My mom and dad left me an inheritance, and some of it I can use for school stuff. My friends Michael and Gavin are going to the mall this weekend, and I can get some stuff then. If that’s okay?” he asked politely.

Joel’s face gleamed. “Absolutely! Feel free to stay out as long as you’d like! You don’t even have to ask me! Just uh... Just be home by like 2 AM or something,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Thanks?” Ray replied, unsure of how to take the man’s instructions. Instead, he glanced around the room, appreciating the art on the walls. “Oh wow... Is that an actual Banksy?!” Ray exclaimed, leaping up and rushing to the framed work of art. The image was of a gang-like male preparing to throw a bouquet of flowers like a Molotov cocktail.

Panicking, Joel leapt up as well, fully prepared to tackle the child if he smudged his original Banksy. Though he stopped as Ray kept a safe distance and actually glanced the work in an appreciative manner.

“This is “The Rage, Flower Thrower”, right? And WOW, it’s autographed! How the heck did you afford something like that!?” Ray asked excitedly. He was in awe of the painting, glancing it as though he were memorizing every detail.

Smiling smugly, Joel laughed to himself. “well, being a 10-time award winning Emmy actor comes with a considerable wealth!” he said, bragging in a non-humble manner.

Mr. Banks groaned on the couch, huffing at his owner.

Ray smiled. “That’s right, mom did say you were like on some big Soap Opera for 20 years, right?” he replied.

Nodding, Joel sighed, lost in his own memories. “That’s right. “The Young and the Stupid”. I played Tripp Atkinson, a playboy millionaire who was actually the evil fortuneteller’s biological son by her third marriage. They finally had to kill off my character after Stefan May had an illegitimate child with my grandmother’s ghost on the show. Ah, but such is the fate of television,” he said sadly.

“So cool!” Ray said.

“Art lover?” Joel asked, admiring his reflection on a wall mirror as he made facial poses.

Ray nodded. “Art lover AND artist. I've taken all kinds of art classes since I was little, and studied with a few professionals in the area. I want to grow up and be a famous artist, just like Banksy! I want to make really profound art that makes people think. Though what I really want is-” he said, turning to Joel. It was clear that he was not paying Ray any attention, caught up with his reflection in the mirror. He was even making kissing faces to himself.

“That's nice Ray...” Joel replied in a monotone response.

Ray rolled his eyes. “Well, um... Do you need me to do anything around the house? I’m happy to help out with the cooking or cleaning. I did most of that at home since mom and dad were always busy,” he replied.

Joel tilted his head oddly and turned away from the mirror to face Ray in the face. “Oh, you... You did cooking and cleaning? How.. Quaint... But that’s not really necessary, I have people that do that sort of thing for me on a daily basis. Mr. Gibbs cleans in the morning, and Mr. Samson cooks for me in the evenings,” he replied.

With a blank expression, Ray nodded back. “I uh, see,” he said blandly. “I uh.. I think I’ll go to my room then and study, if that’s okay?” he asked.

“ _Thank Christ,”_ Joel thought to himself.

“Wonderful! Your room is the third room on your left in the main hallway. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready!” Joel announced.

Grabbing up his two bags of belongings, Ray walked off quietly to his destination.

+++++

Ray’s room wasn’t much. Actually, it was nothing at all. A single Queen-sized bed, a nightstand, and a television set. Everything else was a blank closet, white carpeting, and a set of sheets and comforter that wasn’t even put on the bed.

Huffing, Ray put his belongings down on the bed.

“ _Your Uncle Heyman is... Well, he’s a selfish bastard who lacks a heart and I’m ashamed to be related to him by blood. Still, he’s my brother so I try to remember when he was young. He WAS a good man, up until... Well, I’m not sure why he changed, but he did. Just remember that he’s still family, so even if he says rude things, don’t worry about it,”_ Ray thought, remembering what his mother had said before Uncle Joel was supposed to come for Thanksgiving. It was going to be the first time he’d been back to the main family since he moved back to Austin, but even then he blew it off at the last second for some hoity toity event in California. 

Ruffling inside his backpack, Ray produced a small framed photo. It was a sketched drawing of his parents he’d made after the fire. All his family photos were burned in the fire, and he couldn’t stand the thought of losing their image. The photo was an accurate representation, almost down to the exact detail. He placed it on his bedside table gently.

“Well... You were right about the selfish bastard part,” Ray said to his photograph. He smiled, removing his bags from the bed and placing them on the floor. Carefully, he grabbed the sheets and unfurled them over his mattress. Ray tucked the sides in, tightly enough to bounce a quarter off them.

“Still... He can’t be all that bad. Nobody who loves art can be all THAT bad!” he said to himself.

The door to his room opened gently. Loud noises from the living room, in the form of some indie rock band was blaring an an unbearable level. Mr. Banks was the one to open the door and quickly shut it behind him. He groaned loudly as he made his way to Ray’s bedside table and covered his ears with his paws.

Ray sighed. “Okay, maybe he is all that bad,” he said, grabbing one of his pillows and putting it on the floor for Mr. Banks to sleep on.

The surprised Yorkie stared at Ray in awe at the act of kindness. Plopping down on the floor next to the dog, Ray pet him gently behind the ears. “At least you’re a nice enough guy, aren’t you Mr. Banksy-Wanksy?” he said, speaking in a baby-like tone.

Mr. Banks smiled, rolling over on his belly happily.

In an obvious doggie smile, Mr. Banks was quite clearly saying “Welcome to the family, and please for the love of God take me with you when you leave”.

 

 


	2. Poor Man

Three weeks into living with Uncle Joel had been an exercise in patience for Ray. He was never at home during the daytime hours, and would come in drunk as a duck by about 11 PM and annoy the hell out of Ray. He’d play loud music, act out parts from his old films, or just yell at the wall for being a piece of shit that decided to leave him.

Not to mention his lack of respect for ANYTHING. Ray had brought home a rather intricate drawing he was going to enter into the State Art Fair, which Joel had used as a coaster for his beer, leaving a stain that there was no hope of getting out. The only option was to start over on the 29 hours of work he’d already put into it.

Food was just as bad. In order to keep things “separate”, Ray used his inheritance to purchase his own groceries so there was not any inconvenience on Joel's part. He'd believed that Joel would eat his belongings, considering how “plebeian” they were (Joel's words). Still, only after a week, Joel had gotten an insane attachment to Bagel Bites, microwavable burritos, and even Lunchables. Ray's groceries would be gone by the time he ever got to them.

Then there was... The invisibility factor. Joel didn’t speak to Ray, didn’t interact with Ray, and had zero sympathy for Ray’s loss. On the few occasions that Ray had tried to initiate some kind of friendly conversation, Joel would roll his eyes and walk off, spouting some nonsense about having to "make an emergency call". There was no talking about Julia or Julian, and Ray had to take advantage of Michael just to get through the tough nights.

Joel was the exact opposite of what his parents had been, and every day was a painful reminder of what he'd truly lost.

All of which was the topic of discussion at the Austin Private Academy for Young Men, or APAY for short.

Ray was sitting next to Michael in the outside quad area's picnic tables, eating some leftover sushi from the previous night's dinner. Across from Ray and Michael were two other male students.

The taller male, roughly a year older than Ray, was a brawn-built male with golden brown hair down to his ears. Unlike the rest of the student body, this person failed to wear the regulation tie, and left the first few buttons of his undershirt roam free.

Ray turns to his senior. "No Ryan, we cannot break his legs, and I don't care if your football cronies would help you out with it. We've been over this multiple times, no murder, decapitation, or violence of any kind!" he exclaimed.

With a roll of his eyes, Ryan huffed. "You never let me have ANY fun," he said angrily as he bit into a raw apple.

Beside Ryan, a much meeker male was sitting. With a bone-thin build, but tanned and muscular features from the school's swimming team, this lad weighed about 100 pounds sopping wet. His hair was down to his neck thanks to the swim team's off-season, and he wiped them from his eyes carefully.

"Is he really that bad?" the thin boy asked.

Ray nodded. "Yeah Gavin, he is. I mean, I'm GREATFUL that he took me in, don't get me wrong. It was either him or moving out of the city limits and having to change schools, so I'm thrilled to have a place to stay. But actually living with him? Damn, it's like he and my mom were exact opposites!" he said, face-planting his head into the table.

Michael patted his friend on the back. "Relax Ray, it's just a couple of years. You'll get your trust fund and you can move out for college. Then you'll never have to see the bastard again!" he offered pleasantly.

Softly, Ray sighed. "I guess... Still, it's hard to believe anyone could be that much of a bastard," he said, muffled by the table.

"There's got to be a way to get him to lighten the fuck up and treat you with some goddamn dignity," Ryan said angrily. He broke the rest of the apple in a newly-formed fist, letting chunks explode over the table.

Gavin's eyes lit up. "Hey! I've got an idea!" he said eagerly.

"No Gavin," the three friends replied in unison.

Huffing, Gavin folded his arms angrily. "But it's a good idea! Next week is parent-teacher conferences, so we get all of Friday off, right? Well, since Mr. Heyman leaves the house all during the day, Ray can let us in and then we can look for some blackmail or something! He was an actor, right? I bet he's got all kinds of dirty laundry!" he offered.

There was a stunned silence between the circle of friends.

"Dear God, Gavin actually had a smart idea. DUCK AND COVER, IT'S THE MOTHERFUCKING APOCALYSPE!" Michael screeched loudly, ramming his body underneath the picnic table.

While Ryan laughed his ass off and Gavin viciously started kicking under the able, Ray held up his hands in a defensive position. "Guys, no. That's not how to solve anything. I mean, he's driving me nuts, BUT that doesn't mean we can just pry into his personal life. He's my uncle, after all! We're family," he offered.

Ray's friends all groaned loudly.

Michael popped back up from under the table and grabbed both of Ray's cheeks like some demented grandmother. "Ray, for fuck's sake, you are TOO nice! Why don't you care about yourself for once!?" he spouted.

Slapping Michael's hands away, Ray rolled his eyes. "Because I was raised right," he replied dully.

The bell rang loudly in the quad area, signaling the end of their lunch hour. Grabbing their belongings, the circle of friends started to make their way back into the brick school.

"All I'm saying is that you can't live like this forever. Even if you don't do anything mean, at least stand up for yourself and have some self-respect. Do you think your dad would have just rolled over and done nothing?" Michael asked, staring seriously into Ray's eyes as Ryan and Gavin walked ahead of them.

A pang struck in Ray's heart, and he held his chest tightly.

+++++

Friday morning came all too soon for Ray. With school out for parent-teacher conferences, there wasn't much for him to accomplish. He had plans with Michael and the gang later that evening, but all of Friday morning and afternoon was completely up for grabs.

Walking into the living room, freshly dressed and showered, Ray glanced at the security system on the wall. It was armed, which meant that Joel had left the house AGAIN without telling Ray. Which was a gigantic pain in the ass, because if he opened any door, the police would be there in the span of ten minutes. He'd already nearly gotten arrested the first time it happened, and had politely asked Joel to let him know if he left. Which, naturally, he had not done.

Ray sighed, plopping down on the leather couch. Hopping up next to him, Mr. Banks took up residence on Ray's lap.

"Well, if it isn't my new buddy? How's my Banksy-Wanksy?" Ray asked with a gigantic grin, rubbing the magical spot behind Mr. Banks' ear.

The dog went into a euphoric state, panting happily and letting out happy little whines.

Ray sighed silently, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. "How do you put up with him Mr. Banks? Is there anything redeeming about him?" he asked.

The Yorkie constructed a complicated facial structure, complete with glaring eyes that said very clearly, and very loudly, " _No"_. 

"Didn't think so... Oh well. I'm sure there's something good about him. We just haven’t seen it yet," Ray offered politely.

Mr. Banks waved off the thought with his paw, dismissing Ray's thought.

Before much else could be discussed, a loud crashing sound emanated from Joel's side of the house. Ray jumped a mile in the air, and Mr. Banks shifted into attack mode, growling loudly with his sharp teeth bared.

Leaping off of the couch, Ray grabbed the nearby fire-poker from the fireplace and held it like a sword.

"Who's there?!" Ray asked as menacingly as a 16 year old with no muscle tone could ask.

Taking off, Mr. Banks rushed into his old master's room.

Ray panicked. "Wait, stop!" he shouted, clearly worried for the dog's well being. He ran after Mr. Banks, still holding the fire poker carefully in his hand.

As he turned into Joel's room, he was met with an open window. The wind had blown the curtains into Joel's dresser, knocking over a stack of binders and books. Mr. Banks was exploring the "crime scene", sniffing as if to determine the location's safety. With a pointed huff, Mr. Banks nodded towards Ray.

"Thank God..." Ray mumbled, running towards the open window and locking it shut. He then bent down to the fallen binders and books. Picking one up, a set of folded notebook paper letters fell out.

"Heh?" Ray asked himself, picking the papers up. He unfurled one of them, revealing a set of carefully written letters.

  
  


_7-5-1994_

_Mari,_

_I received your reply yesterday, and it saddens me to hear that you won't be joining me here in California._

_Though I understand your reasoning, and I would never want to be a burden on your dreams._

_Still..._

_The thought of being without you is something I can't possibly fathom. Ever since we've met, there's nothing more that has ever mattered for me. You're my everything. My music, my soul, and the flame that lights my way in the dark._

_If you can't come with me, then I have no choice but to return home._

_Write me back as soon as you can. Can we arrange a date to meet again?_

_-Joel_

  
  


Ray examined the letter carefully. He had to do a double take to insure that the last line actually read Joel. Because frankly, it didn't sound at all like him. Ray unfolded the neck letter in the stack.

  
  


7-16-1994

_Mari,_

_Is everything okay? Usually, you'd have written me back by now._

_Perhaps it just got lost in the mail._

_I finally got my phone connected out here (great timing, am I right?), so call me. I put my business card in this letter._

_-Joel_

  
  


The script was a little different than the last letter. It was more hurried, anxious. There wasn't as much care as in the first letter.

  
  


_7-26-2014_

_Mari,_

_I've made a flight to arrive on the 30th. I called my sister in Austin, and she says that your address hasn't changed. She also says that she hand delivered my backup message to her._

_I hope you'll meet with me._

_I... I'm just worried that you won't speak with me._

_-Joel_

  
  


The final letter that Ray found was a completely different handwriting. It was bubbly, and had a lot of color to the writing.

  
  


_7-28-2014_

_Joel,_

_I don't know how to put this into words. I appreciate everything that's gone on between us. From the first day that I met you, I knew you were special._

_There was never any pressure on me to do anything I didn't want to do. You didn't play the "nice guy" card, and you were just yourself._

_You got me through my homework every day in high school, helped me through the financial troubles I faced getting through the first three years of college with your Hollywood money, and even paid for me to have an apartment close to school. It was more than anyone has ever done for me._

_I can't even begin to tell you how much all of that meant to me._

_Because of your selfless nature, I was able to get my life out of the gutter._

_You didn't care that I came from a poor family, or that your family resented you for dating someone so far out of your class._

_You were... You were my everything._

_But Joel..._

_I have to be honest._

_The last three years that we've been apart, there's... There's been someone else. He was here for me, a warm body that helped me get through the cold nights. Even though my heart still pains for you, I've fallen in love with him as well._

_..._

_We're lovers Joel, and..._

_I'm sorry, but I have to follow my heart. You scarified so much for me, but I can't bear to see you sacrifice your career as well._

_With that in mind, there's no need for you to come back here. I won't be here when you return._

_Steven and I are eloping to Vegas tonight. I'm pregnant, and we're going to be married and start a life all our own. We're going to live with my grandmother for a while until Steven can find himself a job._

_Be well Joel, and forget me._

_-Mari_

  
  


Ray's eyes couldn't peel away from the letters. After this "Mari's" last letter, there were dozens upon dozens of more from Joel. Many were begging her to come back, some were just pages of rage, and the final few were... Well, they were... Joel.

  
  


_Mari,_

_I've decided to forget you._

_I also should thank you. You taught me a valuable lesson, and a lesson that my mother was right about._

_The only person we should EVER have to care about is ourselves._

_Why the fuck did I bother with you?_

_I should have seen the signs, really. I mean, a brilliant mind such as myself?_

_I guess it was that pretty smile of yours. Or was it a fake smile all these years? Did you just use me for my money, or did those few nights we spent together actually mean nothing to do?_

_You fooled me, but I won't ever be fooled again._

_Enjoy your new life. I hope "Steven" makes you very happy. I know that sounds like a smart ass remark, but even after all you've done for me, I still have this sickeningly sappy part of my heart that still loves and misses you. So even if you've fucked my over, at least make yourself happy._

_-Joel_

  
  


_­_ "What are you doing in my room?" Joel asked.

Ray leapt up, dropping the letters over Joel's floor. Mr. Banks whined quietly in the corner with his ears flat on his head.

"I... I-" Ray said, stammering backwards.

Joel spotted the letters. His usually smug face melted into a solemn frown. He moved over to Ray's side and snatched up the papers in an instant. "Forget," he ordered.

"Uncle Joel, I'm sorry, I-" Ray said, in a sincerely apologetic tone.

Carefully, Joel stuffed his letters back into the book they had come from. He placed it back on his dresser, in exactly the same spot it had been before.

"I started dating Mari when I was 14. She was the poor girl in school, but I never thought of her like that. Mari was brilliant. She had intelligence that only an Einstein could compare to. I knew that she would change the world, and that's exactly what she wanted to do. We talked about all the ways we could improve the world, and how we could accomplish our goals. I used my personal trust fund to send her to the best college money could buy, while I made it out to Hollywood to fulfill my dream of being an actor. She resisted, of course, but I insisted. I loved her, and I thought she loved me. After all, we'd been dating for 4 years and I knew she was the woman I wanted to marry. I proposed right out of high school, and she accepted on the condition that the wedding wait until after she was out of college. I was thrilled, but frightened at the same time. After I got my first acting job and moved away, I worried about our relationship being so far away. She was in college, and I was making big bucks. We were both busy, but I made every trip I could to get home. I never thought anything was wrong, up until she was about to graduate. When I tried to get her to move out with me post-college, she was hesitant. So instead, I was ready to give up my career and come home. Only... She'd been cheating on me for three and a half years with another man," Joel said somberly, turning to his closet and retrieving a large coat from its depths. "I wouldn't have cared if she wanted to break up. We were close enough friends that I would have wished her all the happiness in the world. Still... She couldn't just give up college or her "money-train", could she? Not until she didn't need me anymore," he mumbled.

Ray was silent.

"Let this be a lesson Ray, and this goes doubly for you. If you ever care about anything but yourself, you're going to be used until you've got nothing left. That's why your parents are dead. Had they just been selfish and made money for themselves, they would have never gotten involved with the people that killed them. Same with me. Had I never gotten involved with Mari and wanted the best for her, I would have never lost my heart. Remember that Ray, and let it be burned in your mind," Joel said, slamming his closet door shut. Angrily, he stormed out of the house and slammed the front door just as loudly as he had his closet.

 

 


	3. A Rich Man's Tears

Nothing else was said about Mari.

Nothing else was said about Joel’s tantrum the following days, after he went to Vegas, got stinking drunk, and brought home a “woman of the night” who stole his Rolex and $4000 worth of jewelry in his room.

Nothing else was said about their argument either. 

Instead of doing anything, Ray remained silent about all of it. 

Except for, naturally, with his best friends.

Sitting in the library, the four of them were engaged in a rousing game of Spades.  With Gavin as his partner, Ray had long since given up on winning and used the silence of the after-school library hours to talk about Joel’s latest misadventures.

Ryan shook his head, plopping a King of Hearts on the table.  “So he bought a Picasso?  Good God, what happens when he gets  _really_  depressed?  Does he buy a Monet?” he asked, laughing to himself.

Slowly, Gavin placed down a two of clubs, completely misunderstanding the rules of the game AGAIN.  “Oh come on, give him a break!  He’s probably reliving all of the worst memories of his life!  No wonder he’s such an asshole all the time!  Can you imagine what would happen if…  Oh, let’s say Lindsay left Michael after ten years of feigning love!  Can you think about how he’d react?  I feel sorry for Mr. Heyman!” he explained, sighing softly.

Michael shrugged.  “Listen, there’s a thing called “moving on”.  Living your life based COMPLETELY on one bad relationship is whacked out.  He needs some therapy or something, because dwelling on this “Mari” is only making him miserable.  IT’s like when my mom left this rich guy and started dating my stepfather.  Did she miss Mr. Rich and Handsome Hollywood star?  Yeah!  But she moved on.  She told me that my father was a great man, but that they just weren’t compatible anymore.  Hell, after mom and dad died, I was sad and angry for PLENTY long, but am I still a sulking mess?  Fuck no!  I’ve still got my whole goddamn life to live, and their ghosts can fuck right off,” he replied, slamming down a Queen of Hearts, making Ryan give him a glaringly evil stare down.

Huffing, Ray put down a seven of hearts and slammed his head on the table.  “I know!  I know you’re all right.  I feel bad for him, and I feel even worse for thinking he was a dickwad.  I mean, sure he’s an actual dickwad, but he’s got a good reason to!  Then again, there’s no reason for him to STILL be a dickwad.  I want to help, but I…  I have no idea how to fix all of this!” he offered.

“Then don’t fucking fix it!” Michael shouted, pushing all of their cards in Ryan’s direction.  He put down his hand and stared right into Ray’s eyes.  “Listen buddy, Joel does have ONE point down.  At some point, you have to take care of YOURSELF first and then worry about people.  Have you even taken time to heal after your parents’ funeral?  I haven’t seen you cry ONCE, and I know how close you guys were.  You’re bottling it up, and I know it,” he replied furiously.

Ryan’s face went solemn.  “He’s right, you know.  You missed like  _one_ day of school, tops.  Maybe you should see a therapist yourself!” he replied.

Plastering on a fake smile, Ray shook his head.  “I..  I don’t have time for that shit.  Mom and dad wouldn’t want me to be sad.  I’ve got to stay on top of my grades if I want to graduate with a good degree; I have the ACT coming up, and enough homework to make Sheldon from Big Bang faint!  I…  I don’t have time to be sad, so I’ll just not worry about it!” he said, in the best feigned voice he could manage.

Gavin pouted.  “That’s about as healthy as Mr. Heyman,” he said.

Gathering his things, Ray stood up from their card game.  “Well, at least I’m not an asshole.  If you’ll excuse me, I really need to get going.  I’ve got Chem homework, and I want to finish up the line art for my State Art entry.  Seeya!” he said, waving off and ignoring his friends’ look of confusion as he vacated the library and went out into the hallway.

 

+

 

Marin Street, at the end of the long dirt road that exited the main city limits was still lined to the gill with construction vehicles.  Ray had to take a bus to even get close, and was hoofing it the rest of the way. 

The roads were lined with yellow police tape, blocking off entrance to the dozens of apartments and low-income housing region.  His parents had built them three years prior, and construction had completed sometime in the last six months.  Ray himself had lived in the larger estate in the middle of all of it. 

Standing behind the yellow tape, he glanced at the remains.

Dust.

Literally, that was all that was left at this point.  The construction dozers had come and gone, demolishing what had remained of the main structures.  Piles of burnt wood were blazing in the background, as the concrete and brick remnants were being piled onto dump trucks. 

They’d been working on his house and the apartment complex right next to it. 

“Damn…” Ray said quietly under his breath.  The construction workers were standing in what had been their living room, throwing bricks and concrete off into a pile to the side. 

Ray formed a fist with his fingertips, cracking his knuckles.

“Yo, KID, OUTTA HERE!  THE VESMAS BOUGHT THIS PLACE AND-“ a rather large male shouted, silencing himself as he got closer to Ray.  His face dropped by a mile.

“M…  Mr. Narvaez Jr!?” the worker asked, stammering backwards.

Ray turned his attention to the worker.  He was large and broad shouldered a literal brick wall next to Ray’s thin stature. 

“Mr. Ren!” Ray replied, smiling at the familiar face.  He dropped his bags and unfurled his fist, hugging Mr. Ren tightly.  The man had been his father’s right hand and like an Uncle for Ray.  He’d been at their house everything Thanksgiving and Christmas for as long as he’d been alive.

“Lil’ Ray, how’s it hangin’?” Mr. Ren asked, patting him on the shoulders.  “My God, like your father, you’re looking more and more evry’ day!” he said, as a mixture of a Jewish, Hispanic and Scottish accent ran through his lips.  Nobody really knew what Mr. Ren’s origin was, but it was interesting to say the least.

Ray smiled.  “Meanwhile, how are you doing?!  Did you get another job?” he asked, releasing them from their tight hug.

Mr. Ren nodded.  “Yeah, did, I did!  My mum found me a place o’er in Veenestra INC.  Like a saint, they is!  Took me in, ga’v me a job, and made me a big ol’ boss.  Oi, it was like a bloody miracle!” he said brightly.

“That’s great!  I was worried about you!” Ray shouted, immediately distracted as a loud CRACK rang throughout the region.  Looking past Mr. Ren’s dark skin, Ray spotted the apartment next door getting the foundation devastated by an army of men with sledgehammers.

Ray’s face drained of color.

Taking Ray aside, Mr. Ren put his arm around Ray’s shoulders and guided him away from the sight.  “Bruddah, you gotta’ stop comin’.   Your mum and poppa wouldn’t wantcha’ here.  It hurts, I know, my good sir, but…  Oi..  Dis is tough,” he said darkly.

Ray sighed.  “Sorry Mr. Ren.  I just…  I can’t stop picturing that night.  I guess I keep hoping that if I come back, it..  It won’t be like that,” he mumbled sadly.

“M’boy…  It ain’t gonna change none,” he replied crudly.

Ray shut his eyes tightly.  “No..  No it’s not,” he mumbled.

Tring to put on the brightest smile he could manage, Mr. Ren grabbed a radio from his belt and pressed a bright red button.  “Yo’ TONY, I’m takin’ off for a bit.  Gonna have lunch with my budd’ Ray, and we’s gonna talk about the good ol’ days.  Take care of the place, ‘aight?” he said warmly.

A minute smile went on Ray’s face.  “Thanks Mr. Ren…” he whispered quietly.

 

+++++

 

Unlocking the front door to Joel’s house, Ray stepped inside quietly.  After a long discussion with Mr. Ren, and after a great deal of time spent at Starbucks, he’d come home far past his usual curfew. 

He tiptoed through the dark house, noting that Mr. Banks had stayed up for him.  The golden Yorkie shot him an irritated glare.  Though as soon as Mr. Banks saw Ray’s teary-red face, the dog glared at him in concern.  His ears went flat against his furry head.

“Sorry!  Come on’ let’s get to bed,” Ray whispered sadly, as the dog quickly followed behind him. 

They walked through the house, only to be stopped in the middle of the hallway as Joel stood menacingly in the opening to the bedroom hallway.

“Ah!” Ray shouted, jumping out of fright. 

Mr. Heyman flipped on the light switch.  He was in his silken pajamas, and smelled of alcohol. 

“K… Kid, is that you?” Joel asked, rubbing his eyes and yawning loudly.

Ray nodded.  “Y…  Yes?” he answered cautiously.

Joel pushed by Ray, groaning loudly.  “Kiddo, I need some help.  G..  Get me something for a migraine,” he ordered.

Sensing a long night awaiting, Ray groaned to himself.  He did finally move towards the kitchen as Joel fell down on the couch and covered his face with pillows.  “Ray…..  How come I have to put up with headaches?  Why do I drink like I do?  It’s stupid!” he groaned.

Taking some pills from the cabinet, Ray wiped away a fresh set of tears.  He wasn’t about to cry in front of HIM.

“I’ll pay like hell for this in the morning,” Joel groaned.

After retrieving a glass of water, Ray put both the bottle of pills and the water on the table in front of the couch.  “It’s there Uncle Joel.  I’m going to bed now,” he replied solemnly.

Ray was almost home free, before he felt Joel’s hand grab his own.

“Rayyyyyy…  Everything hurts, stay up with me!  Pleasssssse?” Joel begged, in an almost childlike tone. 

Biting the bottom of his lip, Ray tried to shake his head.  “Uncle Joel, I’ve got to go to bed.  I…  I’ve got school,” he said, sniffling to himself.

Slowly, Joel lifted his head up from the couch.  He tossed off the pillow and stared at Ray’s red face.  His groggy face had to focus tightly on the child’s features.

“Have you been crying?” Joel asked.

Ray slapped away Joel’s hand, picked up Mr. Banks and cuddled him tightly.  “Got to go to bed, goodnight Uncle Joel!” he shouted, hiding his face behind the Yorkie’s body.

Joel could hear the door to Ray’s room slam loudly.


End file.
